


i love to hold you close (tonight and always)

by Talinor



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dancing, Future AU, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 12:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8533885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talinor/pseuds/Talinor
Summary: "So," Keith can feel his puffs of breath on his neck. "Tell me- do you think a guy would fall for that?""Well, I can certainly tell you this," he said, moving his head up to look at Lance. A soft smile couldn't help but sneak its way onto his face. "This one already has."





	

**Author's Note:**

> damn squish back at it again with the klance/shakarian parallels (and old as hell memes too apparently)  
> started as a vent for my november 8th-anxiety, finished as a prelude to smut bc fuck drumpf and pence
> 
> also kinda a continuation of 'all i wanna get is (a little bit closer)' i guess?? but it's fine to read as a standalone 
> 
> title's from pillowtalk by zayn bc why the hell not  
> enjoy!

Keith huffed out a breath. He's never liked clubs like the one he was stuck waiting in, with neon strobe lights and sleek chrome bars and way too many people for him to be comfortable with. It was too open. Someone could see him, in his old high-collared long-sleeved crop jacket and recognize him from his Paladin years.

God, saying it like that made him feel so old. 

He'd only retired from the budding Voltron Initiative two years ago. He was one of the last ""original"" Paladins to leave, too. Pidge and Shiro had turned down the offer to continue serving the year they beat Zarkon and set up Voltron as an intergalactic program. 

After training the new Paladins chosen by Green and Black (it was a big two-day ceremony, something Altea did for the actual first Paladins according to Coran), the two had been the first to retire to reap the fruits of their labor in the galaxy they spent their youth protecting. The last he'd heard of Pidge, they were studying ancient Altean tech found on some dwarf planet back on Earth. Shiro still stayed on the Castle with Allura (and a therapy dog named Rover).

Two years later, Hunk followed to help Pidge with reverse-engineering. The Castle felt a bit emptier without him.

Don't get Keith wrong, the new Paladins were bright-eyed, wonderful individuals. He'd had their backs in some hairy firefights, and he trusted them completely to keep the Universe safe. But no matter how he sparred with Yani, a giant orange four-armed alien woman who'd replace Hunk as the Yellow Paladin, or joked around with Khonel, a squirrelly little Galra boy who was now the Green Paladin, it just didn't... feel the same.

Not even Lance being there with him changed that.

He always thought Lance would retire before him, sick of only getting to visit his family once in a while. Keith was the one who had felt at home among the stars. So it was natural to assume he'd be the last original Paladin left, still going long after the others had stopped.

It was a little unspoken competition between the Red and Blue Paladins, even after they'd gotten together one fateful night on one of the platforms connecting the outer decks of the Castle. If they weren't going to stop together, they were going to wait for the other to go first.

But eventually he couldn't take it anymore. The memories were getting to be too much, and the Castle felt less like home and more like a reminder of all the failures of his 20 years as a part of Voltron. Every family ripped apart by the Galra, every battle they had to retreat from, every planet they let down.

And there were many of those. It got to the point where even having Lance in his arms late at night didn't help it anymore.

So at the end of that year when Allura asked him if he wanted to continue being a Paladin, he'd finally said no.

Lance said yes.

He hadn't seen his boyfriend in the two years since then, other than in pictures and late-night video calls. It was better than nothing at all, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to be able to touch Lance, run his hands through that still-short brown hair and feel the warmth radiating from his slightly-scarred but still perfect skin when he pressed his lips against it. He'd nearly forgotten how Lance tasted, how he felt when they were the closest they could be.

Keith's not a patient person, never had been. But Lance assured him that he'd be done soon. The new Blue Paladin would be ready to take his place and he could finally hand in his armor. There was just one thing he wanted to do with it first.

Yesterday Lance had left him just one simple message- coordinates Keith followed closely in his simple little space shuttle. (It was nothing compared to Red, but he wanted something to travel the stars with. So a rickety old prototype from an upcoming company called Hephaestus Industrials just had to do. The coppery and gray paint was chipped at the edges and had a few scratches, but it ran smoothly enough.)

It led him to a space station Keith couldn't be bothered to remember the name of- something long and complicated from an alien language he didn't have a hope of understanding. The ones who ran it hadn't had an opportunity to find the closest translation for the influx of humans. But the club itself had a translated name- Omega. 

So there he sat with his second drink. Alone and sitting at the bar waiting around for Lance. Trying not to focus on the thick and confusing scent of different species' versions of sweat in the air.

He only looked up from his silvery drink (that was apparently tested to be safe for human consumption, so he should be fine. Hopefully.) when he heard someone clear their throat over the thumping music. He was met with the sight of smooth, shimmering blue and green scales on a vaguely humanoid alien. They had the build of a human- sitting on two long legs covered by navy blue shorts, the jutting shoulders, overall a lithe frame. The person had wide, slightly tilted golden eyes, looking at him. A shimmering headphone-looking device lay slack around the back of their neck, showing a bubbly pink liquid surrounding flaps of skin closely resembling gills.

When they spoke, he couldn't help but be surprised by how their voice rumbled. "Hello there," that was definitely a flirty tone. "Do you come here often, gorgeous?"

Keith was resisting the slowly growing urge to roll his eyes. Like, seriously? That line was so overused it nearly made his head physically hurt. He thought about telling them that, but decided against it.

Instead, he just gave them a deadpan stare. "I imagine anyone who does is probably an alcoholic." He said, earning a confused look. Apparently he needed to be blunt for Fish Person. "That means I'm not interested. Just leave me alone."

They got the hint and got up from the barstool. He could've sworn he heard them mutter something under their breath, but he couldn't understand the words he caught.

Whatever. It wasn't the first time an alien cursed him, and he doubted this would be the last.

He lifted his glass to his lips to take another drink when a new flash of white and blue against the hues of the crowd caught his eye. Could it be him?

Keith put his glass back down on the bar counter and scanned the crowd. He searched for another hint of Lance, another confirming glimpse. 

Violet eyes met blue ones getting closer, and Keith felt a familiar rush he hadn't felt in a long time. If the space station blew up right then, he would've died happily at the sight of his boyfriend, his home, his absolute everything in human form. 

But time inched on, the station was in one piece still, and his heart picked up the beat of the club's pounding music. Lance was heading towards him. This was really happening.

Out of all the things that changed about Lance over the years, the only constant was his eyes. No matter what they witnessed, they kept that same mischievous glint. That lightness and humor that drew Keith in like a fishing lure.

They certainly hadn't lost that aspect. Seeing him now, in his old Paladin armor to Keith's own old ensemble (more or less- he couldn't find a pair of fingerless gloves), made him feel like they'd gone back in time. Back at the beginning, with a couple tweaks in the timeline.

Lance sauntered over to him confidently and sat at the barstool beside him. He looked at Keith with a growing smile, leaning slightly closer to him with one elbow on the bar counter. "Well," Keith fought to keep a calm exterior at finally hearing that voice beside him. "Hel-lo there, gorgeous."

He looked to Keith expectantly.

Oh. Right. He was supposed to keep the scene going.

"Time out for just a second," he found himself saying. "This is the...'first date' thing we talked about, right?"

Lance tilted his head in a sort of nod, expression answering with a 'What do you think, genius?' kind of look to it. 

Okay. "Gotcha," he said. Then started over. "Well, well, well. A Paladin of Voltron on shore leave," he let his eyes trail down Lance's armor, dwelling on every intricate detail. The stubborn scuff mark at the tip of the chest piece that refused to wash off even after 5 years, the small tear running a few inches down his torso (that had to be new). This would probably be the last time he ever saw it; he knew that, and wanted to commit the sight of Lance like this to memory.

Finally, he looked back up to Lance's eyes. "You come here often?"

Lance merely shrugged. "Not often, but it's a pretty decent place to just... blow off steam," he waggled his eyebrows a little, and Keith had to stifle a laugh. "Scenery's not too bad either." He looked out at the crowd, noticeably lingering on a few in particular. But then he turned his head to look back at Keith. "Though, I gotta say, the view in front of me is much better."

Nice save, McClain.

Keith let out a breathy laugh. "That supposed to melt a guy's heart?"

"Not at first," Lance shot him a smile as disarming as a shot through the hand. Part of him wanted to end the little charade right then and there, drag Lance to a cozy little hotel room for the night. They had a lot to catch up on. 

But, he reminded himself, good things come to those who wait. 

So he only shifted slightly in his seat when Lance continued with a purr that sent shivers down his spine, "But this voice is." God, he was good at this character. Maybe too good. "The name's Lance McClain. Blue Paladin of Voltron, all-round bad boy," (Keith had to resist the urge to snicker at that. 'Bad boy', his ass.) "and a dispenser of justice in an unjust Galaxy."

Keith raised a brow.

"Also I destroy tyrannical empires on the side," he added. "And you are?"

"Keith Kogane, graduate of the Garrison Academy," he said, despite the fact that he never actually graduated. But Lance got the 'Dashing Paladin' character, so Keith could have his own little fantasy. "Top of the Fighter Class." Which wasn't technically a lie.

"Kogane, huh?" Lance raised a brow in mild interest, scarred lips still tilted upwards. "I might've heard a few things about you."

"Oh?" Keith adjusted his high collar. "Flatter me, then." He took another drink from his almost forgotten glass.

Lance chuckled. "Well, word is you're not too bad in a cockpit," another brow waggle that nearly had Keith choking on the sweet, thick drink. Do it one time in Blue's cockpit, and you never hear the end of it apparently. "Fast, sexy, wicked with a sword. Not to mention, you destroy tyrannical empires on the side, too."

Keith put his glass back down on the counter, the clink it made only noticeable due to the current song finally dying down. "Right," he was running out of things to say. "And... do most guys you flirt with fall for that?"

"Depends more on the guy," Lance said with a shrug. The song finally ended. "Sometimes I gotta break out the big guns, though." He shot the other former Paladin his trademark grin that usually foretold trouble.

Keith's brows knit together at that. Sure, their 'script' was purposely vague so it still felt genuine, but he had no idea what Lance could possibly mean by 'big guns'. "And... what would those big guns be, exactly?"

Another instrumental started, the melody of what sounded like a piano filled the air. "I'll show you." Lance's deep blue eyes shone as one hand grabbed Keith's. He got up from the stool, pulling at the other's hand to drag him up along with him.

Okay, this definitely was not part of the plan. Keith resisted, shoulders tensing in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Trust me, babe," he said. "It'll be fun."

Usually when Lance said that, it only gave Keith more pause. Those two phrases together usually spelled out they were going to do something stupid and possibly-not-entirely-legal (but, admittedly fun).

But this time felt different. 

Maybe it was just the bit of alien alcohol warming him up and loosening him up a bit. Maybe it was the sight of Lance, his wide shoulders and lithe frame illuminated by the different neon colors of the club lights. Maybe it was his gentle, hopeful expression littered with scars from countless battles over the years. Or the mere fact that, after two years of daily messages and nightly video calls that lasted well into the morning, Lance was actually physically in front of him.

So he relented, letting Lance pull him up onto the dancefloor. The beaming grin he got from it was reward enough, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about how close they pressed together.

He let Lance position him with both pairs of hands clasped on his as the light tango-esque music continued. He let Lance lead with small steps at first. It took Keith a moment to get used to the pattern of it; his eyes cast down on his feet before gazing up to meet the pair in front of him.

"Took a few lessons on Earth during shore leave," he explained, giving reason behind his sure and steady movements.

He heard Lance snicker as he accidentally tripped over his old boots. "You're gonna pay for this later," he muttered in frustration barely loud enough for the other to hear. "I hope you realize that."

Lance let go of his left hand, leading him out to his right side until they faced the same direction. Keith looked at the crowd uncertainly. A few were looking in their direction in mild interest.

Then Lance pulled him back in, the two facing each other once more. Instead of taking his hand again, Keith rested his on Lance's side just above the hip. Lance raised a brow, but put his own on Keith's lower back. "Promises, promises, Kogane."

They went back to the same stepping pattern, so he didn't have to look down at his feet. He moved freely, more confidently now. It didn't feel so awkward dancing with his boyfriend, even if it was in front of a crowd of strangers. For a moment, he forgot they were even there.

Which was probably why he lifted one bent leg to rest against Lance's right side. Thigh pressed against his hip, foot resting against Lance's calf, he felt a rush of euphoria only the man looking at him with eyebrows raised in surprise could trigger in him. He didn't give a damn about the gasps and what he presumed to be whistles in the background.

All that mattered was Lance.

Gorgeous, flawed, flirty, brave and brilliant Lance.

His lips turned up into a smile when Lance merely continued the dance by stepping his right leg back slightly, making Keith lean even closer. The two stayed in the intimate position for a few moments dragging on as if they were covered in honey. Murmurs from the crowd started to accompany the music, and time ticked on. It took him a moment to realize they had a small but growing audience.

Well, might as well give them a show.

They moved back to their previous positions. But this time, they didn't bother with the meek little steps. No, it grew more complicated than that. 

While it grew more complicated, it also became more... freeing. Hearing shocked whispers from the crowd whenever they did something little but new- like Keith stepping one leg forward considerably, and Lance putting his own in the space like it was a practiced move- only encouraged him to keep going.

A breathy laughing escaped him as they moved in sync. He'd never danced like this before- only saw the style of it in TV or movie scenes with choreography and practiced actors- but with Lance moving with him and guiding him, it felt natural. It felt more fun than anything he's done in a long while.

Lance hummed in appreciation. "Now you're getting it," he only felt better with the little bit of praise.

Keith twirled in Lance's arm until they were pressed against each other, an armored elbow lying crooked on his hip and forearm in front of his slowly dampening dark gray t-shirt. He took a moment to enjoy the closeness, the heat from his body against the cool surface of the Paladin armor.

Then he twirled outward, and Lance let go of his hand. Keith stopped at the edge of their little space of the dancefloor, ending up face to face with one of their audience members. Namely, Fish Person. They crossed their arms, looking Keith up and down with an unimpressed look.

That look only lasted a moment before their lips turned up in a smile, and they hummed in what sounded like approval.

A familiar hold on his wrist pulling him back in brought him back to reality. When they connected again, they held nothing back. No holds barred. Just fluid, precise movement.

Years of mind melding into a giant robot warrior paid off in the most unexpected way in those moments. The two moved in perfect sync. It was like his mind and body subconsciously knew what Lance was going to do, and moved along with it like it was muscle memory. Like they spent countless hours practicing it to perfection, and it was finally paying off.

He took the time to appreciate Lance. His caramel skin glistened with sweat and glowed with the strobe lights' dancing colors. Strands of his short and choppy hair lay slack and unimportant on his forehead. His pupils were fat, focused on Keith and Keith only in what could only be described as pure unadulterated adoration.

In that moment, Keith decides, he wants that look for the rest of his life. Wants the dork attached to it too, of course.

The song is finally drawing to an end.

As the final notes sound through the club, the two do their final move. Keith's left leg bends back, the very edge of his boot barely tracing against the floor. Lance moves with him, both hands on the back of his crop jacket. The tip of his shoe traces a half-circle into the floor until Lance dips Keith's body down, his leg lifting up slightly and his boot finally leaving the floor. 

Lance's left hand hooks the leg's bent knee, keeping it up off the ground. Keith leans against the supporting hold of Lance's right hand, and tilts his head back to bare his throat as the final note plays.

They stay like that for a dazed moment. Mainly to catch their breath, but also because neither want to break the closeness.

Lance is the one who finally does, letting go of Keith's leg. "So," Keith can feel his puffs of breath on his neck. "Tell me- do you think a guy would fall for that?"

"Well, I can certainly tell you this," he said, moving his head up to look at Lance. A soft smile couldn't help but sneak its way onto his face. "This one already has." He moved to stand up in Lance's embrace, placing their foreheads slicked with sweat together. The two stayed there in comfortable, worn-out silence for what felt like forever as the crowd disassembled and the next song started.

This time, Keith was the one to break it. "But don't think I've forgotten what I told you earlier, McClain," which was really just about two minutes ago. "I'm gonna make you pay for that."

Lance merely smiled. "I hope so, Kogane."

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr: squishy--squish  
> comments are always appreciated!


End file.
